Whispers before the Darkness
by J. Merrick
Summary: Don't stop running, that's how He finds you. Just pray the Mad God of Time will save you. An 11/Clara horror story, now complete!
1. Chapter One

_**Whispers before the Darkness**  
a story by J. Merrick_

Timeline/spoilers: Post-The Name of the Doctor.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.

_Summary: Don't stop running, that's how He finds you. Just pray the Mad God of Time will save you. An 11/Clara horror story._

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**Chapter One**

He had been running. He had been running for days and he couldn't stop. If he stopped _He_ would catch up to him. He didn't want that to happen.

_He_ would eat him.

Every shadow was a possibility. Every shadow was eternity. Every whispered breath was doom.

He only dared to stop long enough to catch his breath.

He couldn't stop to sleep; that was how _He _caught you.

He couldn't stop to eat; that was how _He_ found you.

He couldn't stop to talk; that was how _He_ trapped you.

The book had said to avoid rooms that had corners. The book had said to avoid candles. The book had said to avoid mirrors that faced each other. The book had said to avoid walking through three open doorways in a row.

If he disobeyed _He_ could be summoned.

If he strayed _He_ would catch up.

If he got sloppy _He _would claim his soul.

While reading the book he knew the mistake that he had made, the call was merely a ruse that _He_ used to gather those that were unfortunate enough. _He_ only fed upon those whose minds were healthy enough to consume.

_He _only consumed you by driving you mad.

_He_ wanted you to run till the end of your days.

_He_ wanted you to know that he was lurking just out of reach

_He_ was waiting for you to make the fatal mistake.

The first mistake was merely entering the house. The third mistake was leaving the house. It was the only house that was protected. It was a sanctuary; it was a gilded cage. _He_ surrounded it though, his presence enough to force you to leave the only place that _He_ couldn't reach. His presence just always out of reach yet suffocating.

Lurking at the end of every word.

Crouching over your shoulder before you turned around.

Hovering over you while you slept.

The book had said that merely by reading it he had damned himself. It was the second step that _He_ used, for you sealed your fate merely by opening the cover. The book told you everything that you needed to know about what was going to claim your soul. The book made sure you knew the revelation before your mortal death.

There was only one path to immortality.

There was only one path forever more.

There was only one path out of the house.

And it all ended in suffering.

You knew that _He_ was getting close when you heard his hounds. You heard their howl first, as the day died into the night. Then you heard their panting while you walked, trying to put distance between their awful shriek and your body. Then you heard them scratching on every wall, panting behind every door, stalking their prey.

Getting ready to deliver you to _Him_.

The book had said that which is not dead may eternal lie and with strange eons even death could die. He had heard the whispers while in Arkham, of the Mad Man in the Box. The Lonely God. The Walker of the Fourth Dimension.

He was his only hope.

As it was, he knew that _He_ would catch up to him soon. If he couldn't save himself in the moments he had left before his eternity, he could perhaps save someone else. There were no known words, phrases, or rituals which could conclusively bring the Mad God of Time, but there was clues that would eventually bring his attention. Unfortunately he had to enter a room.

A room with four corners.

After three open doors.

He quickly carved the sigil into the wall of the museum, before dropping the book on the floor underneath into the exhibit itself. He turned around with his arms stretched wide, seeing the tell tale smoke of the Hounds.

His screams summoned the guards, who only saw a pile of ash on the floor.

They fortunately did not see the sigil on the wall.

The Mad God of Time was summoned.

X X X

"I think you only like coming to these to gloat," Clara accused the Doctor in a playful manner as they walked through the museum, "I bet you like taking all the girls away in your snog box to show off how you appear in some way shape or form in all these exhibits."

"It's not gloating, it's only minor correcting," the Doctor responded with a mock glare, as Clara raised an eyebrow in his general direction, "Why I'll have you know that Vincent van Gogh painted a portrait specifically for me!"

"Why is it that you try to impress me with these stories of all these men of history that had crushes on you?" Clara asked in return as she walked past, smiling over her shoulder as the Doctor sputtered.

"Remind me to never introduce you to Jack," was the only response he gave as a pout came over his features.

"Aw, cheer up, Chin," Clara said with a playful smile, running her figure over the body part she had recently begun referring to as his _Lantern Jaw of Time_, "You forget, an echo of mine did meet him. Naughty man."

This had the effect of causing the Doctor to close his eyes and sigh, resulting in a loud laugh coming from Clara, which caused the other patrons of the museum to look at the pair with slightly cross eyes. Giving an embarrassed smile, she slipped her hand into the Doctor's and walked away with him.

After the events which caused her to split echos of herself across all of time and space, the Doctor had been bringing her to the many different libraries and museums of the universe. She had been having trouble separating the lives of her echos from that of her own life, when they had accidentally come across a library one day. Suddenly, pieces of her echos started to make sense as she could associate what she was seeing with the lives already and yet to be lived.

Any further thinking on that subject brought about a headache, and she was willing to concede that she should just accept it worked. Plus, it had the side benefit of watching the Doctor do his own version of flirting by pointing out to her all the aspects of history that he was responsible for.

He had refused to enter a few, however, including _The_ Library. When those had been suggested he had gotten a look on his face that she knew was one of lose.

Before she had been split through time she only knew he had bad memories, know she knew what those memories were. She knew why he carried the pain the he did. As much of their tour of the universe was to help heal her mind, it was just as much of an exercise of her helping him through the pain of having to relive all his lives as the Great Intelligence tried to rewrite them.

So they traveled. They sorted out the memories that she had been written into, the lives that had been and will be. They worked out where they stood in time.

They stood closer to each other than they had previously.

He brought her home every couple of days, and spent those days holding her hand as they walked through Trafalgar Square before popping into the TARDIS to see the Museum of the Alaskan Memorial thirty thousand light years away. She brought him over for tea in Hammersmith with her friends before they went to see a visual reproduction ("They find the term 'movies' to be insulting," he had said while eating a banana) of the Fall of the Headless Monks.

Just earlier this evening they had been having dinner with the Maitland's (she had actually introduced him to George as he ended up spending so much time at their house as it was), before the TARDIS had delivered them to this museum in Boston. Next week they actually had plans to have dinner with her Dad, so that he could meet her father properly.

It was one step at a time, but it was them. It made no sense, but was filled with their own logic at the same time.

Clara was broken out of her thoughts when she felt her hand pulling like the Doctor wasn't moving. She turned and looked, he was staring quite intently at the wall of one of the exhibits, unmoving.

"Doctor?" she voiced, getting slightly worried. She looked into the exhibit and noticed nothing truly amiss, it was on the superstitions of the settlers of the New World, "What's wrong?"

"Clara," he began, hesitatingly "Look at the wall, and tell me what you see."

She raised her eyebrow at the request, but still complied. She didn't notice anything truly wrong or out of place – or anything that would even warrant the Doctor's attention beyond a mere statement of how they had gotten something wrong and a cheeky look in her direction.

"I'm not seeing anything Doctor," she responded, causing him to sigh like he normally did when she was missing something that he deemed _totally obvious_. He opened his mouth to speak before closing it, and getting a softer look on his face.

"I forget how your brain is still sorting through all it's new data," he said with a smile, her transgression apparently forgiven, "I'll give you a hint. There is something on the wall which should not be there, and is written in a language long since dead."

She took another look at the back wall and after a second she noticed. One of the drawings on the wall wasn't just for decoration: it was a word crudely written in High Gallifrian. Closing her eyes and summoning the tendrills of her life lived on the Doctor's home planet she reopened them to see if she could read what it said.

"Doctor," she asked after a moment, "That says 'Help.'"

"I know," he responded, "And River would have signed it with something much more creative."

He looked around, causing her to sigh. She knew what came next.

"Would you mind keeping a look out?" he asked as he jumped into the exhibit, sonic screwdriver out.

She complied as she heard him scan just about everything in the exhibit before shouting, "Ah ha!"

She turned back around as he vaulted out holding a book in his hands that gave her the chills just looking at it. He grabbed her hand with a worried expression on his face.

"Doctor, what is that thing?" she asked as they hurriedly walked down the steps out of the museum, towards the park where they had left the TARDIS. He just shook his head and kept walking faster, causing her to have to almost jog to keep up.

"Doctor!" she insisted, grabbing onto his hand and bringing him to a stop, "What is wrong? What is that?"

"Something of great evil," he responded, holding it off to the side but still in his field of view, "Something I thought was destroyed a long time ago."

He took a deep breath, before finishing with a low almost whispered voice, "Something which should not be."

It was at that moment where she felt like something was watching her over her shoulder. She paused for a second to look, but just shook her head as she walked into the TARDIS.

It had started.

**End Chapter One**

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading, please review to let me know what you think so far! It's going to be a bumpy ride!


	2. Chapter Two

_**Whispers before the Darkness**  
__a story by J. Merrick_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

The Doctor knew that the feeling that was pulling at the back of his mind wasn't just from Clara staring at him expectantly from behind him.

He knew what this book was.

He knew what it contained.

He knew what it meant.

He also knew that the way he was currently acting was probably frightening Clara, but he needed the time to pull his thoughts together. Not only to provide an explanation, but because he knew that the clock was already ticking before he wouldn't be able to anymore.

It was funny, for a man that lived in time he was always running short of it.

"Doctor," came the soft voice of his…what were they now? Companion just didn't feel right; it was too soft of a word. Assistant was well out; she was obviously more than that.

"This book," he finally replied, pulling himself out of his thoughts while turning around to look at her, "is something that should not exist."

"I know, you said that," she responded, walking towards him and then looking slightly surprised as he started walking away from her. He had to keep some distance between this book and her; it was already too late for him. He could still protect her though.

"I want you to think back to Gallifrey," he continued as he walked into the TARDIS, willing his most trusted companion to read his thoughts and lead him on a path that wouldn't put him at odds to the power of this book.

The TARDIS was powerful, but he didn't want to know if _He_ could get in.

"Remember all the stories that were told about the creatures the existed before us," he said, rounding another corner, "The creatures that our parents used to tell us would come and grab us should we ever misbehave."

He could feel her nod behind him, they all were told the stories.

"What if they were real?" he continued, "What if those Old Gods lived and breathed, waiting for someone to make a mistake and give them a chance to enter this world?"

He walked through his first doorway, thankfully it actually involved doors. The TARDIS had brought him to its library, and he hoped that she knew what the book was. That she was prepared for it.

"During the last days of the Time War," he continued, walking deep into the library's stacks, "Many heralds of these Old Gods started seeping through the locks that the old Time Lords had put on them."

"Like the Nightmare Child?" Clara asked, surprising him that she knew about it.

"Exactly," he responded, rounding a corner and going through another, closed, doorway. He marveled at the powers of the TARDIS when he saw that she had brought him into a round room with a podium in the center.

"You're telling me that things like the Horde of Travesties were just _heralds_?" she questioned, sounding slightly frightened at the prospect.

"Exactly," he responded, placing the book with the leathery appearance on the podium, its mere presence seeming to bring shadow to the space around it, "This book is itself a form of a herald as well."

"For what?" Clara asked as he grabbed her hand and walked her out of the room.

"The Unspeakable One."

X X X

Clara sat in the TARDIS counsel room with her feet hanging over the ledge. The Doctor was currently in one of the many storage areas of the TARDIS looking for a trinket that he said would help the two of them.

She wished that he would just sit with her for a moment, wrap his arms around her, and whisper how everything was going to be okay.

She needed that lie right now.

The Doctor had told her about the stories of the Unspeakable One, and how merely the book alone was enough to draw his attention. Apparently it had been used by the Time Lords during the Time War itself because if there was one thing that the Daleks feared more than the Oncoming Storm, it apparently was a God that scared him.

That's what scared her the most.

She hadn't been completely honest with the Doctor lately, after everything that had occurred on Trenzalore. She had been open and honest about just about everything that she remembered from the echoes of her lives, but there was just one thing that she hadn't been able to fully discuss yet.

The Time War.

She knew that he would have questions after she had asked about things only a Time Lord alive during the Fall of Gallifrey would know. It hurt her so much to keep these things from the man she…well. From that man.

What were they?

He was more important to her than just about anyone alive, and when they ran together she never wanted it to end. She was introducing him to her dad! Why couldn't she just open up completely to him?

She looked over her shoulder; feeling like something was watching her, yet finding nothing there. She looked up at the TARDIS counsel, as if asking it if it knew what was going on.

She looked around the room and wondered if the fact that it held no corners was deliberate, after hearing about the dangers of rooms with corners.

The Hounds.

She shivered; she had never been a fan of dogs to begin with. Now with the possibility of the Hounds of Hell on the trail of a man who she would never leave the side of…

As if reading her mind the Doctor walked into the room.

"Finally found what I was looking for!" he announced, holding a map in his hands. Clara stood up from where she was sitting, the Doctor immediately noticing the look on her face, "Are you all right?"

"I'm scared," she replied, honestly, walking into his arms as he wrapped them around her, "I know it's silly-"

"It is not," he replied with a level of intensity that gave her pause, "I'm scared all the time!"

"Of what though?" she asked, looking up at him and that chin.

"Well, losing you for starters," he replied, laying a kiss on her forehead before walking over to the TARDIS consol and laying the map down.

"Now! After the conclusion of the Time War I had thought that these heralds that summoned these beasties would have stayed within that lock. Turns out I was wrong. The one that is currently in our possession was supposed to have landed and stayed in a house in Arkham in America that was built to hold it."

"Wait, someone built a house specifically for a book that could summon _that_," Clara asked, slightly bewildered.

"Well of course, it's the obvious thing to do," the reply came without a hint of irony, "Find a book that summons a being that will tear your soul to shreds for all eternity, build a house. As natural as a banana."

Despite the seriousness of the situation a laugh came to Clara, which the Doctor returned with a smile.

"So this house was built to contain this book," Clara prompted the Doctor, who finished unrolling the map.

"Yes, the house was built by a university of all things," the Doctor continued, "They have an entire department dedicated to these things. Well, they _had_ an entire department I should say, turns out that they mysteriously went missing right around the turn of the century."

"So are we going back to when they disappeared?" Clara asked as she walked over to stand next to the Doctor and saw that he had circled the map around where 'ARKHAM' was written.

"No, that would be madness," the Doctor replied, "Plus it would stir up all sorts of wibbly-wobbly that I don't want to tear open with having two of those books in the same place."

He put his arm around her shoulders, "No, we are going there right now. Well, I say right now, but I just mean this current time. Best to keep the book out of the time stream."

Clara nodded, thankful for the Doctor's closeness. She just couldn't shake the feeling as if she was constantly being watched.

Little did she know that the Doctor could already feel the breathing of hounds around every corner.

X X X

He watched as she walked around what she had declared as their 'living room.' It was a concession he had made when she agreed to spend more of her time on the TARDIS. He would have to do domestic-like things with her.

He was perfectly fine with that to be honest.

She was currently on the phone with her father, catching up with him. She called him once a week now, her experience having brought the two closer back together than they had been since her mother's death. She had so wanted to tell her father that all the conspiracies that he had ranted on about had been _true_, that he wasn't crazy, and here was her Time Lord boyfriend who could show him the stars.

He had told her to wait, it would probably be better to get to know his traveled through space and time first before also saying that aliens existed.

Thus the dinner they were supposed to have.

He was really excited about that, somehow. They were growing so close together, and yet…she was hiding something from him. Something important, he could taste it.

She would make fun of him and his Time Lord senses before getting a wistful look on her face, but it was true. There was this feeling that was just hanging on the end of every single one of her sentences, every single one of her looks, every single touch.

It was only fair though, because he hid so many things from her.

Like right now, he was holding something from her that he was sure Ace would have tried to beat him with her baseball bat for.

He wasn't within the vaults of the TARDIS just looking for the map - that had taken less than five minutes. No, he had gone and investigated the book. He was slightly ashamed to say that he could already feel it's deadly contents calling out to him.

He could already feel it singing to his hearts.

He could feel its pulse double his own.

He could feel the temptation closing in on him; _He_ was standing over him.

He had broken down, and picked up the tome knowing that he was signing his soul over to eternity, but the beating in his ears was like what he had felt in the Master's mind.

Luckily at the last moment he had seen a piece of paper sticking out of the tome that screamed 'READ ME FIRST, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ ME FIRST.'

He had seized it like the lifeline that it was, because he knew what would happen if he opened the book. He had been the one to suggest building the house during the closing days of the Time War, knowing that things would fall through the cracks. He couldn't tell Clara that, she had already punched his arm the time that she thought he had been holding monsters inside the TARDIS.

She knew his greatest secrets, but he feared what would happen when she learned his big secrets.

The letter had scared him almost as much as the site of the book. The lettering had been tense, as if written by a man that knew he was close to dying.

_To the Mad God of Time-  
If you are reading this, I am but dust. I have failed to out run the hounds. _**He**_ has caught me.  
I have heard stories batted around about how you were the one to lock the Old Gods away.  
I pray that they are true.  
If you are reading this, he is already watching.  
His hounds are already running.  
Run as fast as you can, don't let those bastards get you.  
Please, _**He** _needs to be locked away again._

It had been unsigned. He had been ready to put it away, knowing already that he would have to be making the mad attempt to lock this evil back into the Time War when he saw a hastily scribbled note on the back.

_Beware the Cult of Azathoth. They point the Hounds on their way._

**End Chapter Two**

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**A/N:** Once again, thanks for reading. Thanks for the great response so far as well! Please let me know what you think by reviewing!


	3. Chapter Three

_**Whispers before the Darkness**  
a story by J. Merrick_

* * *

**Chapter Three**

She was running.

It seemed like she was in a maze every time she lifted her head. She was only running through the streets of the town. All the residents looked at her with pity.

They knew _He_ was after her.

She couldn't stop, if she stopped she was dead. She was so hungry, tired, and scared.

Where did the Doctor go?

Why did he leave her?

Every step added a new heartbeat that she could feel in her ears. A little touch of darkness encrouched from the outside of her vision. Another set of eyes gazing upon her.

She wanted to go home.

She wanted to see her Dad again.

She wanted to see Angie and Artie.

She wanted the Doctor.

He had warned her against looking in the book, that to do so was a death sentence that he didn't know how to release her from. She had looked anyway, the book had called to her.

It was dreadful.

The words that had been written in it were twisted, cruel, and binding. As she read every word she knew that she had to stop, that to continue was madness.

The book forced her to read till the end. Now she ran, she couldn't stop.

Avoid all doorways without doors.

Avoid all candles.

Avoid all rooms.

Avoid all mirrors.

For the love of God don't stop moving.

The book had told her how to survive, almost as if taunting her with the challenge. A challenge that the book had gloated had been running since time immemorial.

_He_ would always find you.

_He_ would laugh at your pathetic attempts.

_He_ would have you for the rest of time.

She had lived thousands of lives shattered across time already, she knew that every culture that had ever existed knew that _He_ was always lurking just out of touch. Just out of reach.

Until someone read the book.

She turned a corner and immediately found herself in an ally. Smoke was coming out of the corners.

The Hounds were here.

She could run no more.

"Run you clever boy," she whispered, her cry through the ages for the Mad God to find her, "And remember me."

She turned around, her back to the hounds and stretched out her arms, ready to be taken.

And then she woke up.

X X X

Clara listened as the Doctor explained to her about the history of the town of Arkham, a sleepy town on a river. It reminded her of some of the smaller villages that she had seen while visiting some friends in Wales, except there was a certain air that hung over the entire village.

It seemed to scream warnings.

Of course, a town the size of this was bound to notice when two people that weren't residents were present. She had noticed that they were receiving calculating looks from just about every other person that walked past. Almost as if analyzing what these two visitors wanted.

As if they were hiding a secret.

The Doctor had told her how Arkham was well known for being a center for all things weird, unexplainable, and downright terrifying. The TARDIS itself hadn't wanted to go, as if sensing the trouble that this seemingly sleepy town could bring about.

Then there was the dream that she had. Everywhere she walked the streets reminded her of the dream. Of being chased by the hounds. She still had that feeling right now, except it wasn't as great. It was the same feeling that had started shortly after they had found the book, of being watched.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the Doctor had guided them into a small café and ordered them drinks.

She didn't notice until he had forced her to sit down into a chair.

"Sorry," she said, as the Doctor gave her a look, "My mind has been elsewhere."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, looking at her intently.

She took a drink of the tea, letting its warmth spread through her bones. She hadn't noticed how bitterly cold the town was until just this second.

She was noticing things a lot slower lately…

"I had an odd dream last night," she finally said, hesitatingly, "It took place in this town in fact."

The Doctor didn't say anything, or make any movement as if he heard her. It was obvious that he was waiting for her to continue.

"I was being chased, the entire time," she continued, pausing to take another sip of tea, "I felt my vision getting darker, like from the outside, as I walked. I didn't know where I was going, just…I had to keep moving."

She noticed now that the Doctor's face was starting to show a bit more concern. It oddly made _her_ more concerned.

"Then I finally walked into an alley without an exit," she continued, reaching her hand out to grab his, which he gave to her willingly, "And the Hounds were waiting for me."

He slowly brought her hand up to his lips, giving it a soft kiss. The whole while she noticed he still had the concerned look on her face that let her know that_something was wrong_.

"I was worried this would happen," he said after a moment, fiddling with his cup while keeping a firm grip on her hand, "The book calls out to those that know it exists. It wants to drag you into it. It's a silent, seeping herald."

He was silent for a second and she concentrated on the feeling of his overly long fingers on her hand. It was soothing, it let her forget the feeling that someone was looking over her shoulder that was forever encroaching on her.

"It's part of the horror of it, honestly," he continued, her eyes taking in his every word, "It latches on to every inkling of thought in your brain until you can no longer do anything _but_ open it."

He paused, taking a deep breath.

"Then once you open it…"

"You're dead," she finished, as he shook his head in assent.

"Clara you need to promise me that whatever you do, whatever you feel," he squeezed her hand, "That you will not look in that book. It is pure evil."

"I promise," she whispered, scared.

"Now forget your dream," he said with a smile, "Because it isn't going to happen! And we have a house to investigate!"

Despite his cheery demeanor, Clara was still uncertain.

She could still feel the eyes upon her.

X X X

As they walked up the path the pair had fell into a comfortable silence, which was fine for the Doctor because he was sure the moment he opened his mouth it would be to tell Clara about how the house they were looking for was one of his design. How it was designed to let no one out of it that entered.

That's why he was so worried.

If the book had been in the house how did it get out? Was _He_ powerful enough to subvert the time locks that had been purpose built into it? He didn't want to think about what the consequences entailed.

Did the book itself force its way into the open world?

Was it this Cult that allowed it to leave?

That was the other rub, this _Cult of Azathoth_. He had dealt with cults before, they were always bad news. If this cult was dedicated to serving the purpose of a Great Old God…it was just dangerous to think about.

After a few more moments they came upon the house. It was obvious that it was the one they were looking for, even without the Doctor's guidance. It just radiated unnaturalness.

It radiated hatred.

It radiated pain.

It radiated sadness and despair.

He felt Clara's hand work its way back into his.

"Doctor," she breathed, "Remember how you said it was okay to be scared before?"

There was a pause, he nodded his head.

"I'm really scared now."

He looked at her and saw that her bottom lip was trembling.

"I suppose there really is no use in telling you how dangerous this is?" he asked, giving her a small smile and receiving one in return.

"Never."

They stood there a second before he knew a frown crossed his face, "Before we go in there's something I need you to know."

"Clara," he began, deciding that if they were to go into this house, he had to be honest with her, "I created this house. You know of the horrors that I have faced, you know the possibilities that I have seen through the years. This house was designed to hold those inside."

"I need to know that you're okay with seeing the product of that madness," he finished, taking a deep breath before whispering, "That product of _that man_."

The one who broke the promise.

Her only response was to kiss him.

"I will follow you anywhere, Chin Boy," she stated, "Even into your nightmares."

She closed her eyes, and he saw determination cross her features.

"Doctor," she began, "I remember the Time War. All of it. There's still an echo of me trapped in the Time Lock. It hurts, it hurts so much."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "But just being around you, I can cast aside the feeling, because you fill the hole of that missing echo."

The Doctor brought her into his arms, kissing her forehead.

They could go into this house of horrors, the chasm between them crossed.

"Then, Geronimo," he said with a small voice.

Which was when the world went black around them.

X X X

He was running.

He could hear the hounds barking.

Every step he took they were ever closer still.

He understood that there wasn't a corner that he could run by that was safe from their hunger.

He had made it out of the house, made it out of their grasp. He didn't know where Clara was, he could only hope that he could find here before it was too late.

The silent sorrow that he felt in his heart told him it was in vain though.

He kept moving.

He kept running.

If he could find the book, he knew that he could trap the hounds. He could trap _Him_. He had seen it, he had done it once before. Before he had put the Lock on Time.

He would lock _Him_ up.

He would send _Him_ back into the Lock.

Somehow.

He had to succeed.

So he kept running.

He kept moving.

But every step he knew was futile. There wasn't a place to hide. _He_ was all-seeing. Now that the Hounds had been summoned there was only a small amount of time before he met his fate.

He turned down an ally, and noticed it was blocked off.

It was over.

He slowly turned around expecting to see the Hounds, but instead he saw a cloaked figure.

A man in a yellow cloak. Not moving. Just staring.

The book wasn't the herald. The book was the Doorway.

The Hounds were the Herald.

"I knew it was you," the Doctor said, defiant, raising his arms up and holding them straight out, "Go on then, take me mighty King!"

He saw the Hounds materialize behind the man.

He saw them pounce.

Then he woke up.

**End Chapter Three**

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**A/N: **I would like to thank sisypheandreamer for leaving the single greatest review I have ever gotten on the last chapter. If you haven't checked out the stories she's written, you should. They're simply awesome.

Also, thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I really appreciate the feedback! See you next time!


	4. Chapter Four

_**Whispers before the Darkness**  
a story by J. Merrick_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Breathe in, slowly.

Take in as much air as you can.

This is not real. It is just an illusion, a way for your mind to make you feel better. To process the insanity around you.

Remember who you are.

No matter what happens your identity can not be taken away from you. You have been places that have scared you before, and you have survived. You are a fighter, that's how you have made it this far in life.

Don't surrender. Remember the pain.

So many lives. So many endings. One that never will have one. Focus on that. Focus on what makes you human. Pain is the truest human emotion. It's how we know we are alive.

Light. There is light.

There is always light to be found in the darkness. All those deaths, remember who you saved. Remember your mother. It broke you, for so many years. It also taught you to fight. To learn from the darkness. Even the little slivers.

Every end is a beginning.

You never would have met Angie and Artie. You never would have met the Doctor.

More light.

More light is coming.

Rage against the darkness. It is nothing compared to you. You are the impossible girl. You jumped into the timeline of the most important man in the entire universe and _you_ changed time. Just you. An impossible human. Something not even a Time Lord would have thought possible.

You thought that story was ending. Every end is a beginning.

The book.

The book brought you here. You confessed your secret to the Doctor. Of the ever dying life. Of the pain. Of the piece left blank.

The piece that he fills.

He is waiting for you. He will always be waiting for you.

There is light in the darkness. Grab onto it.

Breathe out, slowly.

Let it out as slow as possible.

This is just an illusion.

And you are waking up.

X X X

Clara woke up to total darkness.

A total darkness that was physically pressing down onto her.

She smelt the pungent aroma of sulfur in the air. She could feel is wafting over her, forcing its way up her nose, assaulting her senses.

The lack of ability to see anything was forcing her other senses into over-action. The darkness had weight, and she could feel it having an impact on her lungs. The sulfur had barbs, and they were stabbing her from every angle.

She couldn't move her arms or legs.

They weren't tied, they were being held down. Not by something human, it wasn't flesh or moving. It felt like they were encased in blocks.

She felt like she was drowning, and the blocks were pulling her under.

The entire weight of her situation was pulling her under. She didn't ever realize that it was possible to be able to drown in darkness, to be crushed under it unerring heaviness. Yet it was happening. With each passing second she found it harder to breath.

Harder to concentrate.

Harder to find the will to continue.

But she had to. She knew that he was counting on her. She hadn't looked at the book yet, so she knew that she wasn't damned. Not yet.

So she had to fight.

She had to resist.

"Doctor," she breathed, her voice breaking the oppressing silent void. Her voice reverberating through her ears and fighting back against the weight of the darkness, the stillness of the blocks, the barbs of the sulfur.

She felt her voice travel across the space that she was in, and the sound waves travel back to her. Quickly.

She was in a room. She was in a room filled with total darkness.

More sulfur came. A candle was lit.

She was in darkness no more.

X X X

"I'll have you know that my mind is a terrible place to try to trap me," the Doctor said, after awaking to darkness. He had recognized quite quickly the situation he was in.

Total darkness? Sulfur in the air? Hands and feet entrapped in blocks?

He had been captured by a cult!

"You wouldn't be the first cowboys to try," he continued, finding that no matter how hard he wriggled he couldn't move. Well, that was inconvenient – and just plain rude!

"So, total darkness then?" he asked out to no one that he could see. He knew that someone had to be waiting near him. He could feel them in the air. On a human who didn't have his enhanced senses this trick might work. He was a Time Lord. They really should look him up before trapping him.

"I'm so scared, you know," he continued rambling, noticing that he could move his torso in the chair that he was in. That was something at least. He wondered where Clara was, if she was in the same predicament. He certainly hadn't heard her in all of his shouting, and he hadn't felt her presence either.

"You have nothing on the Cybermen though," he stated, and he could feel the anger on his captures starting to boil, which was good, "They know how to scare you. Daleks as well. Oh they are great at making you think you have no hope."

"What have you done?" he demanded, feeling his sonic screwdriver against his chest, "Oh congratulations on getting the drop on me while I was having an emotional moment. All you've probably done is made my impossible girl mad! Do you know how hard it is to pry emotional moments out of me?"

He also noticed that he could move his knees. This was definitely a good sign. They really had no idea on who they captured.

"So, how about we make a deal," he continued, letting his anger at the situation come to the fore for the first time. He had been scared before, now he was angry. He didn't like being forced to sit still, it was just _wrong_. Besides, if he could concentrate on that anger he could forget that he was downright terrified.

"You let me go, and I won't crush you like the little insects you are _Cult of Azathoth_."

That was enough to provoke a response.

Light suddenly overcame his senses as seven matches and candles were lit simultaneously. Allowing his eyes a few seconds to adjust he was able to see that he was in a circular room and surrounded on all sides by beings in yellow robes with masks on. Yes, this was definitely a cult.

Clara was also nowhere to be seen. That just wouldn't do.

"You have the book, we want it back" they all intoned at once. That was definitely creepy, and sort of weird. It was, however, something to be expected from a cult.

"You have a girl that is very important to me," he responded, making sure that the sliver of ice that he kept chilled in his heart bled into his words, they would not know how scared he was, "Give her back, and I'll think of giving you that book back."

"You lie," once again, they all intoned at once. It was disconcerting, he felt like he was being prepared for a sacrifice.

"Well of course I do," the Doctor responded, "That's what Mad Men with Boxes do. We lie. Girl. Now."

"The Cult of Azathoth has been responsible for the Book of the Unspeakable One since the beginning of time, it has been stolen from us once before. We will not suffer it to be stolen again."

"Well you're going to have to suffer," he responded to the monotone voices, letting his sonic screwdriver fall out of his pocket and into his knees, "Because I have it and until you give me Clara I'm not giving you it."

He quickly activated the sonic with his knees and found his hands and feet were released from their bindings.

"Now!" he said, spinning around and pointing his sonic at every member of the creepy robe society, "We will discuss terms."

X X X

Clara looked around, taking stock of the situation. She was in a circular room, and she was surrounded by beings dressed in tattered yellow robes with blank masks on. Creepy.

They were all holding hands with each other, and she got the eerie feeling like she was being prepared for a sacrifice. That was when the smell of the sulfur hit her again. It was making her dizzy, it was overpowering.

"You have the book," she heard the figures say in a monotone voice, together, "You must give us the book back."

"I'm not the one who has it," she replied, her head starting to swim from the fumes.

"Darkness will fall over all if the book is not returned," the voices intoned again. She was starting to get dizzy, and sick.

"I don't have it," she replied, forcing herself to not betray the Doctor. Where was he? Was the same thing happening to him? She was so tired, so sick and tired.

"The Cult of Azathoth has been the caretakers of the book since the beginning of time, it must be returned,"

"I told you that I don't have it," she cried, her vision starting to double. She was sure that she would pass out at any second.

"You know who does."

"I will never betray him," she retorted, intently. She focused on that point. She had to delay; she had to keep her wits about her as much as possible. If she didn't then she might accidentally lose the Doctor to these…people.

"We do not ask that you do, we just ask that you help return the book."

"Why should I give the book back to you? You'll use it to summon _Him_."

She noticed that this seemed to touch a chord the being in front of her as it reacted almost as if it was struck.

"We never wish to summon _Him_," this time, the only one that spoke was the one in front of her. This sudden change brought her entire view back into focus. It continued on, "We seek to protect the world from _Him_. We can already sense the Hounds are running again. We strive to keep them locked away."

She was confused. This didn't make sense. People in tattered robes that drugged her and kept her in darkness weren't the good guys! It was Bad Guy 101! Cults were the bad guys! They were the Cult of Azathoth, whatever that meant!

That meant that they were the bad guys, right?

"You must help us," the voice said, as her vision began swimming again thanks to the pungent smell of the sulfur. She was doing her best to hold on but she was slowly losing her grip, "Where is the book?"

"It's…It's…" she trailed off, the aroma finally overpowering her and her vision starting to darken with the confines of sleep, "It's with the Mad Man in the Box."

Darkness overtook her.

X X X

"We only wish to return _His_ book to its proper place, within the Lock," said a singular voice, stepping forward and straight into the path of the Doctor's sonic, "You have the book, the Hounds are already angry. If we do not act quickly they will surely take more lives."

"You already let _Him_ take so many lives, why should I trust you," the Doctor demanded, scanning the room he was in as quickly as possible for an exit. He needed to leave, to get Clara, and attempt something maddening.

"Because if you do not give us back the book," a pause, almost certainly to build up anticipation. A trait that drove the Doctor mad, "Then we will sacrifice the girl to close the gates."

That, as it would turn out, was the wrong answer.

A very wrong answer.

**End Chapter Four**

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**A/N: **Looking into my thoughts on wear I intend on taking this, we're about ¾ of the way through now. Should just have two chapters left of this.

I thank you all for reading this and for everyone that has left nice, detailed reviews. They really inspire me to continue writing and really, really make my day. Thanks again for reading and reviewing, and I'll see you next time!


	5. Chapter Five

_**Whispers before the Darkness**__  
a story by J. Merrick_

* * *

**Chapter Five**

The Doctor was running. He was running as fast as he had ever ran, and perhaps just slightly faster. It's generally what one does when they caused a series of wax candles to explode all over a group of people that just threatened to sacrifice your girlfriend to trap a Great Old God in a Time Lock.

Normally, he would be up for just about anything to trap a Great Old God but he wouldn't be the Doctor if he let someone die in the process then, would he? Besides, Clara was just a little bit too important to him to just willy nilly sacrifice like that. He had a meeting with her Dad to get to after all, and he never broke his promises unless the end of the world was happening.

Even then, and twice on Saturdays.

He knew the corridors that he was in, he had helped design them. Well, a part of him that he refused to acknowledge helped to design them. The one that trifled with Great Old Gods, built houses to trap their Doorways in, and though _genocide_ was just another Sunday. He had helped design this place, but what had he told Rose that time?

"Different face, same memories."

Now, if he knew cults like he thought that he did (and that was quite a bit better than he was willing to admit, he had gotten up to some adventures during his time, hadn't he?) they would be keeping Clara in a room that was set up exactly the same as his. He knew exactly where that was. The Cult of Azathoth wouldn't change the layout of this house because of its special design. If they did, it would allow people to exit once they had the book…

Ah. That's how that happened. They must have changed the layout of the house. It explains why someone was apparently able to stroll in, steal the book, and drop it in a museum for him to find. Which led to the question of _why would someone want to take the book in the first place_? Unless it was simply a ruse by the Cult in order to drag the Doctor into this mess? What would that accomplish, the Doctor was the only one that knew how to open and close the Time Lock that kept the Unspeakable One at bay.

Ah. Once again. He was a master at being thick at times. They didn't want him to close the gates, they wanted him to _open_ them. Which means they knew _exactly_ who he was, which means that they knew he would be able to escape which means…

That he was so unbelievably thick. He turned a corner and walked into the open doorway that he knew should have been the one that Clara was in if the house's layout hadn't changed. But it had. He mentally backtracked in his mind the steps that he had taken to get to his location.

Oh he was thick.

He had just walked through three open doorways and was now in a room that was nothing but mirrors with a burning candle and four corners.

With an alter in the middle.

On which there was Clara.

He would have to remember not to tell her how he walked directly into a trap when he was on his way to save her, because he was pretty sure that she would punch him directly in the arm. Probably twice.

He turned around just in time to see the door which he had entered to slam closed. The candle snuffed itself out leaving him in total darkness. Immediately the feeling that he was being watched as if by a predetor stalking its prey came over him.

"All right then," he shouted out, turning the sonic on to give him a little bit of light, "You have me. You've caught the Mad Man with the Box."

"You know me, The Oncoming Storm!" he shouted, making sure he kept track of the corners. That's how the Hounds came, "See, I have many names just like your boss! Why don't I invite him over for tea, we can compare notes!"

Silence was his answer.

He kept scanning the corners while slowly walking over to wear Clara was laid out. She appeared to be unharmed but he wasn't willing to bet her life on that.

"You want the book then," he stated, checking her for a pulse – which thankfully was there, "Now, I'm not dumb enough to believe that you want to seal him away. Oh no, you're much too clever for that. Otherwise _you wouldn't have changed the layout of the house_."

He jumped about a foot in the air when a slow clapping of hands cracked through the air. He spun around and saw that there was a figure dressed in yellow robes and wearing a mask.

"You're very good, Mad God of Time," the figure said, as the Doctor spun his sonic over to wear the being had appeared. A quick scan showed that the figure was apparently _in the mirror_.

"Of course I am," the Doctor responded, hoping that this figure wasn't who he thought it was "It's what I do."

"Don't worry Doctor; the Hounds aren't coming for you, yet," the figure continued, slowly walking between the mirrors, "Although they do desire your flesh _Time Lord_."

With a snap of its fingers the candle in the middle of the room lit itself.

"I remember when your people called me into their service," the figure continued, the Doctor keeping his slightly trembling hands firmly affixed to the sonic which was firmly aimed at the figure, although he knew it would do little good against a being in a mirror.

"A being that could send a person to an eternity of torment with naught but a snap of my fingers," the figure continued, running hands that appeared to be filled with boils over the mask on its face, "and the _Time Lords_ thought that I could be forced to serve them."

"It's why I banished you hear Hastur," the Doctor stated, flatly. He noticed that his voice hitched on the final word. It appeared that the name did hold the power that it was spoken of.

"DO NOT SAY THAT NAME," the figure roared, causing the Doctor's ears to ring and his heart to skip, "YOU ARE UNWORTHY OF IT TO PASS YOUR LIPS."

"And you're stuck in a mirror universe!" The Doctor shot back, ignoring for a moment that the Great Old God's voice had been able to transcend dimensions. He noticed immediately that mist started to form in the corners of the room.

Apparently the Hounds were getting antsy.

"Do not test me," the Old God spat, his deformed arm starting to rise. The Doctor looked around, trying to see what was happening before he noticed that Clara was starting to convulse on the table.

"You stop that right now!" the Doctor screamed, running over to her. Laughter was his response.

"Why should I, Doctor?" was the reply, a chilled dread spiraling down the Doctor's spine as he held Clara, trying to help her in vein.

"Because I have your book!" the Doctor shouted, slowly breaking down as he felt Clara dying all over again in his arms, "I have your book! Just stop, let her go. I have your book…"

He trailed off as he was met with laughter again. Clara stopped convulsing and started breathing normally again. The Doctor cradled her head in his arms, stroking her hair.

"You have my book Doctor, I want it back," was the flat demand.

The Doctor looked up, fear and confusion showing on his face; but also a set jaw. A jaw of determination.

A jaw of anger.

"You can have your book back," he ground out, the fury of a Time Lord dripping into his words, "When the suns rise on Gallifrey again!"

He quickly brought the sonic up, causing all the mirrors to shatter. He turned it onto Clara, releasing her from any bonds that she had to the alter before scooping her up in his arms and running at the doorway which he forced open by channeling his anger through the sonic.

On the other side were some shocked members of the Cult of Azathoth that he barreled through, running faster than he had before.

He had Clara in his arms. He had to keep her safe.

He just hoped that he could make his way out of the house in time.

He ran around a corner, raising the sonic in the air. Its pulse sent to him the direction to the nearest staircase. He bounded at it as quickly as possible.

If he could make it to the TARDIS, he could trap Hastur because he had the book. He knew the key to the Time Lock, he was the one that had shut it after all.

X X X

She was running.

Every so slowly, but she was.

It seemed that for every step she took, the Hounds gained on her by three.

She turned a corner, and came face to face with an alley way.

She had seen this before.

She had been here before.

This exact spot.

She spun around, and instead of seeing Hounds she saw a figure wearing a yellow cloak with a mask on its face. The site of the figure caused dread to circle its way down her spine.

"Who are you?"she asked, as the world started to dissolve itself around her. That wasn't a good sign.

"I have been called many things," the figure related in a voice that boomed around her as the world went grey, "But most people refuse to speak my name."

Clara shivered; this was the Great Old God.

"I come to you like this because your Mad God refuses to seek reason," the figure stated, walking closer to her. Clara's entire body stiffened in fright, tendrils of cold working their way through her veins.

"I will be coming back into your world," the figure continued, bringing his deformed hands up to his mask, moving it in place, "And whether that is willingly, or through some other means is all up to him."

Both hands were now on the mask, and Clara felt unease starting to work its way through her bones.

"See, I just wanted the book," the Old God said, walking ever so slowly towards her, "But I have other ways I can reach your world."

His deformed hands started to stretch out, before their horrid deformations took a hold of her face. She wanted to scream. She wanted to scream so badly, but she was completely paralyzed.

"I can use you," the figure said with a laugh, bringing one hand back to its mask.

"Now relax, this will only cause you pain and suffering for all of eternity."

It took of his mask.

Clara screamed at the site, her brain refusing to comprehend what she saw.

Then she woke up.

X X X

"Clara! Oh Clara! Thank goodness!" she heard as she woke up, feeling hands on either side of her face and lips pressing onto her forehead. She was momentarily startled by it because of what had been happening right before she woke up.

Thus she screamed, causing the Doctor to fly back, mumbling apologies.

She looked around. She was in the TARDIS, the consol room. She was safe.

Well, as safe as she could be.

"Doctor," she breathed, looking up at him, as he pulled her up off the ground. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

"Shhh, you're safe now," he said, stroking her hair, "And I know how I'm going to trap that mean Old God back in the Time Lock where he belongs."

"How," she mumbled, tears spilling over her eyes as she looked up into the Doctor's face.

"Because I'm going to summon him there."

**End Chapter Five**

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**A/N: **So of course there is that big, big, big gigantic news that the BBC put out regarding Doctor Who. I'm still in a slight amount of shock to say the least.

Thanks to everyone that has reviewed, it really makes my day! See you all again next time!


	6. Chapter Six

_**Whispers before the Darkness**__  
a story by J. Merrick_

* * *

**Chapter Six**

"You're absolutely insane, I hope you know that."

"Of course I am," came the muffled response as the Doctor dug through the storage space underneath the TARDIS consol, "But you have to admit, it's part of the reason you like me so much."

"Beside the point!" Clara responded with a small stamp of her foot, "You just can't open up a pathway into the Time Lock! It's why it's there! So it can't be opened!"

"Ah, well," came the Doctor's voice as half his body disappeared into the hole, only his legs showing now, "That's the thing. It's not as impossible as its name would lead you to believe."

No response came from Clara, and the Doctor knew that she was looking at him with her arms crossed waiting for an explanation. He sighed, as he felt around for the box that he had buried in here a couple hundred years ago.

"I really have you to thank," he started, finally finding the box that he was looking for, "because it takes having a strong two way mental connection to break through."

He emerged from the storage hole, to see that he was being fixed with a penetrating glare.

"Because you have memories of what is within the Time Lock," he paused, bracing himself for what the response would be, "and because you still have a life that is being lived within it, we can tap into that to open the door just ever so slightly. With that door open I'll have just enough time to get the big old Unspeakable One in, before we slam it shut."

"So, just like that, we tap into an echo of my life, open a door, and deposit the Great Old God in there? That simple?"

Her glare became harder when the answer took more than a second to come, "Well, not exactly."

"Explain."

He started walking through the TARDIS to the room where he was keeping the book, "Well, to trap him in the Time Lock he's going to have to be in this realm. So we're going to have to summon him."

Clara stopped cold. The Doctor paused, and continued talking.

"It's also going to hurt you, a lot," he paused as he walked over to her and put his hands onto her shoulders, "You're going to be put into the mind that you had while on Gallifrey. You're going to be existing in the Time Lock during that time."

She looked at him, a look of determination on her face, "But it will trap him in there? Once he's in there we'll be pulled out?"

He considered lying, for the briefest of seconds, but he couldn't do that today. Not to her, not with what he was about to ask her to do.

"I'm hoping yes," he paused, before looking her in the eye, "But there is the possibility that I will get trapped in there. That you will need to slam the gate shut with me still in there."

"Doctor…"

He silenced her by kissing her on the lips, "It'll be fine, and I should have been trapped in there anyway. It'll be the way it should have been anyway."

He was silenced by Clara slapping him across the face.

"You don't get to pull that Chin," she whispered, anger lacing her words, "You will come back, and you will be at dinner with my father next week. Do you understand?"

His only response was to kiss her again and turn around and keep walking. He couldn't lie to her, and she knew how ridiculously dangerous what he was about to do was. He stopped, turned around, and immediately pulled her into his arms. He could feel the tears starting to spill over her eyes and wished he knew what to say to stop them.

"I'm not asking you to let me go," he said, his voice muffled by her hair – and to his surprise, his own emotions, "Besides, I'll be with you in there if all goes wrong. I'll find a way out eventually."

"No, you'll find _this_ way out," she replied, her own voice muffled by his shirt, "You have to. Just lie to me and tell me you will. It's the only way I'll be able to do this, knowing that you'll still be there on the other end."

The pause felt like it was forever. She could feel her heart breaking with each passing second. She wasn't scared anymore. That time had passed. She couldn't be scared when he was willing to trap himself in the Time Lock, she had to be strong. Even if it meant shattering her heart into a million pieces.

"I will always be there Clara," his response finally came, tugging at her heart as she heard the emotion of both of his hearts were laid out full, "Just as long as you _remember me_."

She smiled up at him, at the words she had been saying to him for thousands of years. At the promise that they had made over and over with each other, and the one she hoped against hope that they would continue making.

"I could never forget you," she whispered.

"Good!" he exclaimed, pulling her by the hand with him, "Because this is about to get dangerous!"

They looked at each other for a moment, smiles coming over their faces. They would meet this together and not any other way.

"Geronimo!"

X X X

She looked up.

There were two suns in the sky.

That meant she was on Gallifrey.

She felt foreign in this body, like she wasn't the one that was supposed to be in it. Which made sense; this was a completely different life than her own. With all of its own memories and feelings, she was a foreign presence.

She looked around and marveled at the feeling of being back on this planet again. Of being where she thought she would never have a level of closure. She knew exactly what date it was. It was the same date this life would live for the rest of time.

She wanted to break down and cry as the emotions of this life overtook her.

She had lived this life.

She had lived every single day.

It was so unfair! This life deserved to have closure to it like all the others, and not be trapped in time.

But that's what she was here to do.

The Doctor. The Time Lock.

She walked out into the fields, willing her body to move as fast as she could, knowing the Doctor was summoning _Him_ and would be waiting on her. She could do this, she could do this for him.

She continued walking, time seeming to slow down, as if it knew what she was doing. As if it knew that she was an interloper - that she didn't belong.

She stopped moving when she felt a spike of pain in her head. Her mind was trying to comprehend being in the Time Lock, and it was having trouble. She had to separate herself, but not before she accomplished her final mission. Not before she gained closure.

Not before she saved the world again.

"Doctor, I'm ready."

She tapped into her Time Lord's mind, willing for all her thoughts and memories of the Doctor to cross over the Time Lock, to lock onto his thoughts. She knew he would sense her; she was made to be his impossible girl.

She felt him, grasping onto her thoughts like a sailor tossed into the seas.

She pulled him in.

X X X

He looked down at the book, it was burning.

He could feel _His_ presence seeping through the smoke, billowing around the room, looking for the person that had summoned him.

"Here I am, _Almighty King_," the Doctor spat, raising his arms in a manner that could appear as triumph. Clara was suffering, he could feel her, but he was waiting for the lifeline, for the anchor to be planted so he could reach out and grab it.

The smoke started to assemble itself into a form, while at the same time trying to suffocate him. It wanted a new body; it couldn't fully cross over unless it was in him.

He was going to let it.

"Come on, come and take this," he laughed, his arms above his head, his mind reaching out to Clara, reaching out across the Time Lock, to where she was.

He felt the tendrils that _He_ exuded wrapping their way up his arms, through his bones and veins.

He didn't have much time left, he had to hold out.

He felt _His_ thoughts start to turn to triumph, as he started bringing his form over the Doctor's, starting to assert control of the whole.

Then he felt it.

Clara. She was calling out to him.

He grabbed onto her, pulling himself across.

Then he gave up control.

X X X

She was surrounded by white light.

All around her, she could tell without opening her eyes.

She felt him, with her.

"Doctor, where are we?"

"We're in-between time."

"How do we leave?"

There was a pregnant pause, she felt him having trouble verbalizing the answer.

"You need to let me go Clara, there's no way for me to go back."

Tears.

"You're lying, there's always a way."

Another pause. Her heart breaking.

"Not this time, it's the only way to be sure. You need to let me go Clara, it will pull you back out of the Time Lock while I continue on in."

"We could stay like this, forever."

A lie. A lie said to make herself feel better.

"I don't want to leave you."

"_He_ needs a body, I'm the only one."

A pause. A stray thought.

He was wrong.

"You're wrong."

She was laughing. It made so much sense.

"You're wrong and I've never been so happy."

Another pause, she could feel his hope.

"What am I missing?"

"There's a girl, that has been trapped for all of Time. She wants to help."

Herself, yet not.

The one she couldn't let go of.

"It would be torture for all of eternity."

"She's already been dying for all of eternity, she can handle this final call."

Another pause. Relief. This will work.

"Clara, I love you."

Another pause, more tears.

Tears of joy.

"Bit keen, chin?"

He sputters, even while trapped in their own minds.

"Of course I love you. I always have."

They reach out to each other, their minds meeting.

"Are you ready?"

"Geronimo!"

She let's go.

She has closure.

X X X

When she woke up she was in her bed, feeling as if she had run a marathon. She reached into her thoughts and discovered that the pain of the echo that had been on Gallifrey was gone.

The memories were still there, but they no longer pained her. She breathed a sigh of relief, before sitting up in her bed and looking around. She was in her room on the TARDIS, and the lights were dimmed. There was a chair next to her bed which meant only one thing.

The Doctor had been watching over her.

She looked over to her nightstand and saw that there was a bouquet of flowers and a plate of Jammie Dodgers. One eaten, of course, he could never resist.

She looked over to the doorway and sure enough he came walking through holding a plate of them. Which he promptly dropped when he saw that she was awake.

"Clara!" he exclaimed, running over to her. He put his hand on her forehead, scanned her with the sonic, and finally after making sure that she was okay threw his arms around her as hard as he could.

After a moment she could have sworn she heard him crying, which was okay, because tears were coming down her own face.

"How long was I out?" she asked after a few moments, whipping her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Well, I think your Dad is expecting us for dinner in a couple of hours," he commented, looking slightly embarrassed at his showing of emotion.

"Really?!" she exclaimed, jumping out of bed and spinning around to look at the Doctor.

"We're in a Time Machine, it can be any time we want!" he told her, laughing, glad to have her back. He stood up to give her space to dress, "Also, you might want to put some clothes on; I don't think your dad wants to see you in your knickers."

She looked down, before looking back up at the retreating Time Lord's back in mild anger.

"Doctor, what happened to my clothes?!"

**Finis**

* * *

**A/N: **To me, this story was just as much about Clara's uncertainty with the life she lived on Gallifrey and how it fit into who she was as it was about angry Great Old Gods. Also, my original ending was completely tossed on its head after Matt Smith announced he was leaving after the Christmas special.

Thank you to everyone that read, and for all the reviews and feedback! I greatly enjoyed reading all of it, and I will see you again next time!


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